


The One Where Elain Has A Tongue Stud

by aztec234



Series: The One Where Elain Has A Tongue Stud [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Because Fuck ACOFAS, Dorks in Love, F/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Sisterly Love, Tongue Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21703699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aztec234/pseuds/aztec234
Summary: Prompt Line: "AZRIEL FUCKING NIGHT JUST GOT AN EYEFUL OF MY EMERALD ENCRUSTED TONGUE STUD!"
Relationships: Elain Archeron & Clare Beddor, Elain Archeron & Feyre Archeron & Nesta Archeron, Elain Archeron/Azriel, Feyre Archeron & Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Series: The One Where Elain Has A Tongue Stud [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711153
Comments: 10
Kudos: 71





	The One Where Elain Has A Tongue Stud

**Author's Note:**

> Read it on [Tumblr](https://aztec234.tumblr.com/post/189590695416/the-one-where-elain-has-a-tongue-stud).  
> Read it on [FanFiction](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13314771/1/The-One-Where-Elain-Has-A-Tongue-Stud).
> 
>  **Warnings:** Language.

Nesta blinked groggily, her mind buzzing with sleep as her phone went off, signaling the arrival of a text message. Glancing at her clock, she cursed whoever it was for having the nerve of messaging her at two in the morning. And partially herself for forgetting to silence her phone before she went to bed.

Rolling over in her blankets, Nesta grabbed her phone and saw that her sister, Elain, had sent a group text to both her and Feyre. She read what Elain had written and blinked, all signs of fatigue vanishing.

** Elain:  ** My reputation is ruined. I am dead. I should just go and live behind a dumpster for the rest of my life.

Nesta’s phone chimed again, showing a text from Feyre.

** Feyre:  ** Elain, relax. What happened?

** Elain:  ** My life is over. I SO royally fucked up.

Nesta frowned. Did Elain just type ‘fucked up’? Whenever Elain used a swear word, it was a sign that something was wrong.

** Nesta:  ** Ok. Something's wrong. Elain did NOT just type 'fucked up.' It was a mispronunciation, right?

** Elain:  ** Nope. I absolutely wrote it.

** Feyre: ** That definitely means somethings wrong. What happened?

** Elain: ** WHAT DO YOU EXPECT HAPPENED?! THAT HAPPENED! THAT THING WHICH IS GOING TO RUIN MY LOVE LIFE!

Nesta frowned, her fingers flying to type out her message.

** Nesta: ** What? Did Grayson find out you’re a virgin?

** Feyre: ** Did everybody find out that you're a terrible kisser?

** Elain: ** NO, YOU ASSHOLES! AZRIEL FUCKING NIGHT JUST GOT AN EYEFUL OF MY EMERALD ENCRUSTED TONGUE STUD!

** Nesta: ** Wait. WHAT?!

Nesta's jaw dropped. It had happened a month before Feyre had started her second year at the University of Paris. The three sisters had found themselves packed in a tiny piercing parlor with lousy lighting to get matching tongue piercings. It was only after sever prompting from Elain and Feyre had Nesta relented and gotten a navel piercing as well.

Her phone screen blinked, showing a group video call that Feyre was making to both of them. Logging on, she saw a frantic Elain standing in a corridor, and Feyre sitting on what presumably was her couch back in Paris in sleep shorts and a tank top.

“Woah, Nesta. You look like crap,” Feyre mused, staring at her.

“Probably, considering that Elain texted me at _two_ in the morning!”

Elain frowned. "But it's one o'clock!"

“Yeah. In Prythian, Elain.”

Elain’s eyes widened. “Oh, damn. I’m so sorry!”

Feyre clicked her tongue. “No need. It’s seven here.”

Nesta grumbled. “Back to the point. What is this that I hear about Azriel Night seeing your tongue stud?”

Elain blushed, the apples of her cheek and the bridge of her nose turning bright red. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “But it did.”

Elain nodded, paused, and then groaned. “But the worst part about it is that Azriel might _not_ have been the only person to see it.”

Nesta looked right at Elain. “What?”

Elain flinched under her eldest sister’s glare. “Um, a couple of people might have seen it?”

Feyre’s face went slack. “Who were they?”

Elain glanced at her shoes and fidgeted slightly. “The rest of the Inner Circle.”

“ _What?!_ ”

Elain yelped at the sound of her elder and younger sister shouting at the same time, and hurriedly glanced around before making a shushing sign at the screen.

“Sorry, I mean, what?! How?” Feyre exclaimed, slack-jawed.

Elain sputtered. “Well…”

* * *

Elain carefully sat her textbook on her head, the large size of it blocking the sun from directly shining in her face. She let out a yawn, rubbing her eyes. Having a class out in the open at 10 o’clock in the afternoon on what seemed to be the hottest day of the year was kind enough to make Elain want to bang her head against a wall.

First, her alarm didn't ring, meaning that she'd overslept and missed breakfast. Then, after throwing her hair in a bun, yanking on a pair of jeans and a sweater that Elain couldn't say was clean, and looking like she was partially homeless, she'd rushed to get to her morning class only to bump into Azriel Night. _The_ Azriel Night. Azriel Night, one of the hottest boys on campus, and the subject of Elain’s unrequited crush.

After stuttering out an apology, Elain had dashed off to the greenhouse, face beet red, adamant on putting some space between both of them. After three hours of absolute agony, when the class ended, she was the first student to leave, desperate to get out of the sun. Elain closed her eyes as she walked, and only opened them when she felt herself bump into a brick wall. If brick walls had skin and muscles.

Looking up, she saw Cassian, one of Azriel’s adopted brothers, standing in front of her.

“Hey, Elain!” he exclaimed, looking far too enthusiastic for somebody who had just spend three hours in the same class as her.

“Hey, Cassian,” Elain softly mumbled. “Is there a problem?”

Cassian frowned. “Why is it that whenever I say something to you, you ask me that same question?”

Elain sighed. “Probably because the only time you talk to me is if you need my help with something or the other. Either Rhys trips and scraps his knee, or Mor needs to get her skirt stitched, or Azriel gets a papercut. Which one is it this time?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to hang out with a friend.”

_ A friend, right,  _ Elain thought to herself as she resumed walking, this time with Cassian falling into step with her. A friend, considering that Elain's sisters had a strong dislike towards Cassian and his group of friends – who called themselves the Inner Circle – which burned with a passion warm enough to rival the sun.

After a moment, Cassian broke the silence. “I need your help.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Elain mused, looking up at the sky. Despite the sun’s glare, the sky was still a bright blue, dotted with clouds.

Cassian pouted, an expression that looked ridiculous on him, and she resisted the urge to laugh. “Alright, let’s start with something more mundane. How’s Nesta?”

Elain raised her eyebrow. “Cassian, asking about my elder sister is nowhere near mundane. It’s actually quite stalker-ish.”

“How is it stalker-ish to inquire about my favorite Archeron sister?” he exclaimed, waving his hands around in the air.

Elain contained a snort that threatened to spill out. Despite Nesta having firmly said that she would never return Cassian's feelings, he had never stopped pursuing her. It reminded her sometimes of Hercules and Megara.

If only Azriel could like her.

“Nesta’s in Tokyo at the moment. And Feyre’s still in Paris if you wanted to know.”

Judging from Cassian’s expression, he very much did.

“Are they going to be visiting anytime soon?”

Elain shook her head, her shoulders slumping slightly. Due to Nesta’s new job in Japan, and Feyre still studying in France, seeing her sisters had been limited to video calls and group messages. “It’s going to be a while until they visit. Probably when the year ends.”

Disappointment flashed across Cassian’s features. “That’s too bad. I was planning on giving Nesta a Valentine’s Day card.”

Elain stared at Cassian. “Valentine’s Day? You do know that that was _two_ months ago, right?”

Cassian’s mouth formed a small ‘o’. “I did not know that.”

“Of course, you didn’t.”

“Back to the point. I need your help.”

Elain sighed. “What is it now?”

Cassian blushed. “Well, it’s kind of a personal thing. Promise you won’t tell anybody?”

“I won’t.”

Suddenly, Cassian grabbed Elain’s hand, eliciting a yelp from the small blonde, and dragged her into an empty hallway. He looked left and right as if making sure nobody was there, before pulling her into a classroom.

“What was that for?!” Elain hissed as Cassian let go of her arm. “I almost—”

She broke off as she saw who all were there in the room. Rhysand, Morrigan, Amren, Cassian, and her. Oh, and Azriel. Azriel Night.

“What are you all doing here?” Elain asked, doing her best to not stutter. The last thing she wanted was to turn into a blubbering, red embarrassment. It was one thing to have a crush on a hot boy. It was a completely different thing to let him _know_ that you have a crush on him. Elain was sticking to the former.

It was Rhysand who replied. “It’s a personal thing.”

“That’s the same thing Cassian said.”

“Well then, we’re part of the personal thing,” Azriel said, his low voice sending shivers up Elain’s spine.

“Here’s the personal thing,” Cassian announced, walking up to them, holding a bowl. A fishbowl. With a fish inside.

Elain stared long and hard at the fish before breaking the silence. “Your personal thing is just a fish?”

“ _It’s not just a fish!_ ”

Elain’s eyes widened as all three boys yelled at the same time. Amren rolled her eyes while Mor stifled a laugh. Azriel’s cheeks darkened – was he blushing? – and he cleared his throat. “What we mean is that this fish is very symbolic to us.”

Mor set her arm on Azriel’s shoulder – Elain felt a spark of jealousy – and said, “What they mean is that they're extremely attached to Batty ‘cause they won him in a fair a decade ago.”

“Batty? You named your _fish_ Batty?”

“You could argue that they were already batty.”

The Inner Circle turned and glared at Amren, who shrugged and said, “What? I’m just telling the truth.”

“So, what’s the problem with, um, Batty?” Elain asked, drawing the attention back to her.

Cassian immediately got a worried look on his face. “He’s been, sluggish, lately. Like he doesn’t swim around a lot, and he’s stopped taking his food.”

“Mor said that you got him a decade ago?”

“Twelve years to be exact,” Rhysand clarified.

“Do you know how long goldfish live?”

Five shaking heads later, Elain said, “I’m no zoologist, but I’m pretty sure goldfish don’t live more than five years, ten being the max. Batty’s lived for an impressive twelve. It’s just nature taking its course.”

Cassian immediately started tearing up. “Oh no, oh no, oh no. Are you telling me that Batty’s dying?”

Elain gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’m afraid so.”

She glanced back at Batty, her eyes catching on a feature. She leaned forward, attempting to get a better view. “Hey, Cassian. Is Batty a Tosakin?”

“A what?”

“A Tosakin. They’re a really rare breed of goldfish. They’re valuable because they’re quite hard to breed.”

“Oh. In all honesty, I’ve never heard of these goldfish before.”

“Nor have I,” Azriel added, before turning to Elain. “You’re brilliant.”

She felt herself blush at the comment. Damn Azriel for having that effect on her. Damn herself for having a crush on him. Damn the world.

She licked her lips, which suddenly felt very dry as she glanced down again.

A sharp inhalation of breath drew her attention back to Azriel, who’s cheeks looked like burning coals. His expression was accompanied by the shock on Rhysand, Mor, and Cassian’s face, along with the raised eyebrows on Amren’s.

“Is something wrong?” Elain questioned, feeling confused.

“A-a-absolutely,” Cassian stuttered out, trying and failing to hide his shocked expression. “Not, I mean,” he hastily added.

“Have you looked at the time?” Mor suddenly interrupted, looking around, obviously trying to change the subject. “We’re going to be late for our next class!”

And with that, she grabbed Azriel and hauled him out the door, followed by Rhysand and Amren. Cassian raced out the door as well, but not before yelling out a “Thanks!” and Elain was left alone in the class.

She stood still for a minute before leaving the class herself, drowning in confusion. Why did they suddenly start acting so strangely?

All she had done was lick her lips—

Elain froze. _She had licked her lips_. They had seen her tongue. Her tongue stud, to be exact, which she was extremely cautious about not showing.

She was in so much trouble.

* * *

“You are in so much trouble,” Nesta said the moment Elain concluded her story.

“I know!” she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

“You’re not just in trouble, you’re totally fucked,” Feyre exclaimed, laying down on her stomach.

Elain glared at Feyre. “Can you not aggravate the situation?”

“Oh, honey, the situation is already aggravated. The fact that—”

Feyre was interrupted by a loud groan and a groggy voice, shouting, “Shut the fuck up, Fey, people are trying to sleep here!”

“Whoops, that’s Lucien.”

“Why does he sound so grumpy?” Nesta questioned.

“He pulled an all-nighter and is grumpy as hell.”

“Talking about sleep, I think Nesta should sleep now. She needs her sleep.”

Nesta grunted. “Damn right, I do. I’m holding you to this, Elain.”

“That’s fair.”

“Later, sisters. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Goodnight.”

With that, all three sisters logged off the video call. Elain pocketed her phone and sneaked a look at her watch. She didn’t have any classes, so she was free to go back to her dorm, where she could sob her heart out to her dormmate, not that Clare wouldn’t mind.

Getting up, she walked to the dorm building, climbed up two flights of stairs – she recalled Clare complaining about the lack of elevators in the campus. She sought out the door that would lead her to a comfortable bed and – hopefully – a very understanding dormmate.

Once inside, she was made aware of the sound of pencil scratching against paper and keys clacking. Looking at Clare’s side of the room, Elain saw her sitting on her chair, scribbling in her notebook with one hand and with the other, typing haphazardly on her laptop.

Leaning over Clare’s shoulder, Elain read over what she wrote and said, “I don’t recall you changing your name to ‘Clate Beffpr’."

“Shit!”

“Language,” Elain automatically said. 

Clare winced. “Sorry.”

She turned to look at Elain and frowned. “Is there something wrong, E?”

Elain shook her head, giving Clare a tired smile. “I’m fine.”

After a minute of staring at each other, Elain burst into tears – big, fat, crocodile tears that spilled across her cheeks – and wailed, “I’m not fine!”

She flung herself in Clare’s awaiting arms and sobbed onto her shoulder. Clare gently rubbed soothing circles on her back. Five minutes later, Clare was handing a warm cup of green tea to Elain, who was now sitting on her bed.

Clare sat down in front of her and said, “You want to talk?”

Elain smiled gratefully at her before taking a sip of her tea. “Let’s just say something happened.”

“Which was?” Clare prompted.

“The Inner Circle saw my tongue stud.”

Her statement met a minute of silence in which Elain downed one-fourth of her tea, and Clare stared at her open-mouthed.

“The Inner Circle saw your tongue stud?”

“Yup.”

“And you're fine with it?”

“Nope.”

“Do Nesta and Feyre know?”

“They were the first people I told.”

“How did it happen?”

Elain sighed and recounted the entire story for the second time that day.

“Huh,” Clare said once she finished. “No wonder they left as soon as they could.”

Elain frowned. “Do they really hate tongue piercings that much?”

Clare rolled her eyes. “No, you ass. Azriel doesn’t hate tongue piercings.”

“Then why did he leave like that?”

“I love you and all, E, but sometimes, you’re the most clueless person I know.”

“Excuse me?”

“Azriel Night, the guy you have been crushing on since freshman year, has been in love with you since he saw you. Like, honestly, the entire school knows, except for you.”

Elain stared at Clare.

“ _What?!_ ”

* * *

It was a sunny day.

Far too hot for Elain’s liking, and considerably warmer than the summers back in France, but this was the usual weather in this part of the states. Nothing could change that.

It had been a while since the last time she'd had a proper conversation with Azriel, other than the occasional greeting when they passed each other in a corridor. He hadn't talked to her for the remaining month and a half, and the year was ending now.

Elain rested under a tree, having seen it being the only thing close enough to the campus gates providing a decent bit of shade. From where she was standing, she would easily be able to spot her sister’s once they came.

She stood on her tippy-toes, searching the crowd of parents and siblings and students, looking for a flash of golden-brown, or in Lucien's case, red. Elain had already bid farewell to Clare, who'd left an hour ago, her mother fussing over her. _“You’ve lost weight!”_ she'd screeched, while her father had thanked Elain for looking out for their daughter. _"Always a pleasure, Mr. Beddor. Clare's my best friend, I'd do anything for her,"_ she'd assured him – which had reminded Elain sickeningly of when her parents had still been alive.

She glanced around, seeing the courtyard slowly empty of the students it had carried through the entire year. The only people left were a few students she had shared classes with, a handful of people whom Elain knew by face, and the Inner Circle. _Azriel_.

The sound of crunching leaves distracted her to the gates, where she saw Feyre standing, a wicked smile aimed at her. Elain felt a grin of her own spread across her face as she ran forwards, crossing the distance and crushing her younger sister in a tight grip. She pulled back slightly, examining Feyre’s face. Her sister looked just the same the last time she'd seen her – not from behind a screen. The only difference that Elain could see was that her hair was longer – surpassing her shoulders and now brushing her mid-waist – and pulled back in a ponytail. 

Nesta appeared behind her, her hair pulled up in her usual bun, accompanied by Lucien. Elain, in turn, hugged both of them tightly.

“I missed you both so much!”

Feyre laughed. “Not as much as we missed you.”

Nesta snorted. “I think I missed Elain most.”

Feyre feigned shock and put her hand over her heart. “I’m hurt!”

Elain laughed. It felt good to be with her sisters again.

Lucien patted Nesta on the shoulder and said, “How about you three catch up, and I’ll bring the car over?”

All three sister’s voiced their agreement, and before leaving, Lucien whispered, “They’re staring at you.”

Elain saw Feyre’s eyes stray and focus on something. Most likely, the Inner Circle.

“It’s the Inner Circle,” she hissed.

Nesta gave Elain a look. “Did they try to talk to you about, you know, _the thing_?”

Elain shook her head. “Nope. It’s almost like their avoiding me.”

Nesta nodded approvingly. “Good. I never really understood what you saw in that Azriel boy.”

“Nesta, he’s only two years younger than you.”

“He’s still a boy to me.”

“Oh, so Cassian is as well?” Feyre asks slyly.

Nesta’s face remained stone-cold, but Elain could have sworn that her cheeks had darkened. She quickly intervened and asked Feyre, “What about Rhysand? He’s only one year older than you.”

At that comment, Feyre stuck out her tongue, showing off her tongue stud, which glinted in the sunlight. Elain raised her eyebrows at her, who shrugged.

“He was staring at me.”

Elain’s mouth dropped. “Seriously?”

“Yup,” Feyre said. “When he saw it, his face turned three shades darker.”

Elain giggled, imagining Rhysand’s face.

Nesta sighed, muttering something that suspiciously sounded like ‘immature sisters.' She gingerly stretched herself, her shirt riding up and showing her navel piercing. Elain hoped that Cassian's cheeks were just as warm as the weather.

“Shall we leave?” Nesta asked, tugging her shirt down again.

Elain nodded, and Feyre grabbed the rucksack from her hand. “How did you manage to fit all your clothes in this?”

“It’s called being organized, Feyre.”

Elain paused just as she was exiting the campus. Turning around, she looked at Inner Circle, standing at the far end of the courtyard. Rhysand and Cassian’s faces were both bright red, and Mor and Amren were smirking, no doubt teasing them mercilessly. Her eyes locked with Azriel's, who was staring right at her. He waved at her with a small smile on his face.

Elain felt her heart flutter slightly and waved back with a smile of her own before turning and leaving for the car.

It had been a beautiful day.

**Author's Note:**

> That awkward moment when you're trying to write a scene and decided on using goldfish as a helping prompt 😅.
> 
> This is my first fic, so...NERVOUS!
> 
> Comments and feedback are appreciated.
> 
> -Aztec
> 
> P.S: The description of the piercing salon I have given is severely inaccurate, so please, if you want to get any piercings done, go to a reliable place with trained professionals. Please.
> 
> P.P.S: Tongue piercings are painful to get because just like ear piercings, they go through the muscle. Make sure to think it through before getting one if you want to.


End file.
